Wildcat Blues, Nalini Singh [the beginning after the end read novel .TXT] 📗

as soft as the first kiss of dawn, and more than to confirm that she was all alone in her rustic farmhouse room with its sloping ceiling and large window.

The window was very important. Zara was a changeling. She didn’t like being contained and shut up and locked in.

“Tanner replaced the guest-room windows with larger ones when we first came to visit,” Tally had said, her cloud-gray eyes warm with so much affection that the amber ring around the gray seemed to glow. “He asked me what would work for my mate, then got it done. He’s the best big brother, you know.”

Of course Tanner Larkspur would be the first thing to pop into Zara’s mind. Hadn’t he haunted her all night in—

“Argh!” She sat up with a bounce as the rooster crowed again. What the hell? Was the thing right under her window? Did it want to get eaten? Zara was a civilized wildcat and was mostly content with getting her food from the butcher but she did have the hunt in her blood and it did need to be released every so often.

“Do not eat your hosts’ rooster,” she muttered, slumping back into bed and staring up at the sloping ceiling of what had once been Tally’s room. She wondered if her friend had put up pictures of crushes on that ceiling, or maybe light-up stars to keep her company at night. Or images of rock stars. Or maybe cowboys.

Like the one who was probably outside doing manly farmlike things.

Her face flushed. Thank the fates Tanner’d had to leave the farm yesterday soon after their arrival to go help out a neighboring farmer who’d lost a cow or something. Or was it to fix a tractor? She didn’t really remember, her hormones dancing so manically that her blood had been a rush of noise through her skull.

Whatever the reason for his departure, it had been a good thing. Because the way he’d been smiling at her, and the way her body had been reacting… She swallowed and, suddenly hot, shoved off the light throw under which she’d been sleeping. Since she was awake, she padded to the window in her panties and tank top, and peeked out through the curtains.

Fog licked the grass, the sky more gray than blue, and no pesky rooster in sight.

“Pretty,” she admitted. “And early.” That part didn’t bother her; she was an early riser and often went for a morning run in the forest in her wildcat form. No forest here, but a run sounded like a good idea.

Too bad she’d terrify the farm animals.

“They’re skittish but used to my scent now,” Clay had told her last night, his leopard a rumble in his voice. “They’ll sweat themselves dead out of fear if you get too close. Keep your distance unless I or one of the Larkspurs is with you to make the introductions. It still might not go well. Don’t take it personally.”

Her cousins would’ve laughed themselves stupid if they’d heard Clay’s warning. To them, Zara—the only female cousin—was about as ferocious as a friendly kitten. It had nothing to do with her gender; rather, it was her size and her refusal as a child to get her clothes or shoes dirty. When she bared her teeth at them, they grinned and said she was cute.

Zara didn’t know why she loved the giant hulking mugs, but her lips curved even now as she thought of them. They’d like Tanner. He might be human, but there was something about him that said he’d handle a bunch of aggressively protective changeling wildcats just fine. Not that he’d have to do anything of the sort. Because he was never going to meet Zara’s joyously crazy-making family.

Ne-vah. Because she planned to KEEP HER DISTANCE.

Zara had nothing against a little intimate skin privileges with a gorgeous hunk, but:

(1) He lived on a farm. Zara did not do farms. This visit was an exception because she’d wanted to get out of state for break, and she loved Tally, Clay, and the kids.

(2) He was Tally’s adopted big brother, and Zara did not make messes in her friendships.

(3) And, most importantly, Zara had reached a point in her life where she wanted true and forever. She wasn’t in the market for a fling.

She repeated that list of reasons inside her head as—having seen no animals outside that she might terrify—she pulled on her running tights, and switched out her sleep tank for a sports tank that helped keep her breasts from jiggling. Not that they were huge, but they were okay for a petite woman. Also, who wanted to be lopsided?

Okay, yes, maybe she’d wanted it as a teen, but she’d grown to love her body.

Today, she smiled as she used a soft band to push back her curls. It was bright purple. Jon had laughed when he’d seen it and said she was going back to the 1980s, then shown her a workout video from that era. Zara had informed him that true fashion never went out of style and bought two more in different colors. Now all she needed were the cute leg warmers from the video.

Aside from the purple headband, and a wedge of pink on the left thigh of her tights, her outfit was all black. It made her feel sleek and fast—which she was; none of her cousins could match her. A big reason why she took their ragging. Because they were good sports about her lording it over them when she left them in her dust.

Honestly, they were all—Zara included—hellions who were as juvenile as each other when it came to their teasing. But push come to shove, and she knew she could rely on each and every one without question. They knew the same about her.

The De Lêons stuck together like superglue.

Today, she tiptoed down the stairs with care, so as not to wake those who might still be sleeping. The smells wafting in from the direction of the kitchen told her